


Beach Party

by Deadly Night_Sh1ft (CrookedMath)



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Bikinis, Bizarre Dolls, Cyborgs, Gen, Inappropriate Humor, Partying, Reapers, coffin surfing, flying cows, killer bees, pink thongs, taco tuesday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-18
Updated: 2016-05-18
Packaged: 2018-06-09 07:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6896053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrookedMath/pseuds/Deadly%20Night_Sh1ft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chaos ensues as London Dispatch gets together for their annual summer beach party.</p><p>There are no actual pairings. This is AU/crack humor. Enjoy the fun.</p><p>***I don't own Kuroshitsuji or its contents or characters, just my story***</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beach Party

It was that time of year again. All of the reapers at London Dispatch were having their annual summer beach party. Everyone was there, including Undertaker, the retired legend himself. Even the stodgy manager, William T. Spears, showed up much to everyone's chagrin.

As per usual, Undertaker attended in his funeral garb toting one of his custom coffins and cackling like the madman he is. This year he had a special surprise in store for his two favorite reapers.

William T. Spears, always the face of professionalism, stood near the back of the crowd in his suit and tie with his ever present neatly groomed hair parted to the side with waterproof hair gel. In his mind, he must look the part of a well groomed professional at all times. Dammit, he yearned for a promotion. His rule book was more demanding than a flesh and blood lover. William's swim trunks were a tailored cut off version of his slacks, modified to repel water for the purposes of swimming and other aquatic activities.

Alan Humphries and Eric Slingby arrived early for a little "sex on the beach." Open secrets...

Grell and Ronald Knox made a dramatic entrance together as they flew in on Ronald's lawnmower. Grell held her revving chainsaw high and proud with a shrill battle cry, loving the vibrations it sent throughout her body. She was a warrior of fire as she scanned the crowd with bloodlust in her toxic green eyes, hair unfurled and whirling about her. She was every inch exotic brutality in her red leather mini dress and gladiator sandals. William T. Spears definitely missed his chance with this one.

Foxy Knoxie held his lovely cohort firmly around the waist to keep her from falling off his Death Scythe, and used the other to steer while avoiding getting reaped by his mad red queen. They pressed themselves together, bracing for the landing on rough sand. Once they hit the ground, Ronald showed off his expertise with his mower and did a 180 turn, blasting sand in all directions before coming to a stop. Both he and Grell dismounted flashing the Death salute. Some cheered, some rolled their eyes, others didn't give a shit, but Undertaker fell into his coffin, his sexy booted feet sticking straight up in the air kicking wildly, and laughing his ass off.

Grell and Ronald stood over the cackling madman for at least fifteen minutes. Suddenly, out of the corner of Ronald's eye a land shark appeared at the opposite side of the beach. It looked like it was wearing a brown business suit and tan fedora. The beast snatched a man from the group of reapers off to the side, the accounting department's usual haunt. Ronald nudged Grell in the side and nodded his head toward the unfolding event. "Land shark," he said in a hushed voice.

"Seems to happen somewhere every year," Grell mused as she looked on.

"I hope it's not our department next time, Senpai."

"Me too, Ronnie."

Undertaker's laughing had ceased and his face was wet with tears and drool. He was still inside his coffin with his legs draped over the side. Beneath his shaggy bangs, his eyes were glazed over in a state of euphoria. Somehow, despite tumbling backward into the pit of his handiwork the odd top hat of his still managed to stay perfectly on top of his head. Ronald was beginning to wonder if the hat was a mutation from being exposed to too much formaldehyde. Grell knew better. She had seen those gorgeous eyes and a whole lot more, but she wasn't about to tell her subordinate about that. She was content to let him think the mortician's hat was a mutation. Grell had her separate agenda of getting that hat off and looking into the owner's stunning golden green eyes and then some. Little did she know, Ronald had the same in mind, for he was holding out hope that the hat was just a perfect fit. However, unbeknownst to either of the younger reapers, Undertaker was planning to have a little fun with both of them.

"I can see your butt," Ronald blurted out.

"Ronald!" Grell gasped. "How rude!"

"But it's true, Senpai! He's not wearing anything under his robes!" Ronald insisted.

The awkward exchange between the two active reapers brought forth more raucous laughter from the mortician. He eventually calmed himself enough to strip himself of his outer clothes. The giggling madman poked the redhead with a long dark nail drawing her attention from the pointless argument over beach etiquette. Both reapers instantly silenced themselves and blushed as red as Grell's hair at the sexy sight before them. Undertaker had stripped down to pink Speedo thongs and top hat. (Does he ever take it off?) Ronald's mutation theory was proving correct as he observed the hat still firmly atop his head. His eyes roamed over his body. Even though it was ghostly pale and scarred in random places, it was so hot. No wonder Grell was late getting back from reapings with a smile on her face.

"I told you I could see his butt, Senpai," Ronald grumbled under his breath. "And it's a nice one too."

Grell gave her junior a side glare. "True, but it was still rude to point it out like that!" She hissed.

Undertaker grinned and pulled an urn of his specially made bone cookies from out of nowhere, and shoved them in his mouth like the sugar fiend he is. "Are you two debating on which one of you gets a piece of my legendary ass? Hehehe."

All three reapers fell out laughing at Undertaker's quip. Finally, when the laughing died down to snickers Grell and Ronald stripped down to their swimsuits. Grell shed her red leather mini dress in favor of a sexy red bikini with a ruffled top, giving her the illusion of looking more feminine than usual. Anything deemed unladylike was concealed. Thank Death for fashion tips and tricks. Ronald, on the other hand, proudly boasted an itsy bitsy, teeny weeny, yellow polka dot bikini. The bottoms had to cover up his privates lest they go public, of course. Since this is Foxy Knoxie sporting this hot little number, Grell knew he gave zero fucks about being ladylike. Knowing him, he probably lost a bet or did it on a dare.

"So, uh, 'Taker, what's with the coffin?" Ronald asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

The redhead latched herself onto Undertaker's arm wiggling her hips suggestively with hearts in her eyes. "Simple, Ronnie! It's because he wants to take me on a romantic boat-er, coffin-ride. Isn't that right, Unny?"

"Hehehe. That's one use for it," the silver haired sex, oops, death god mused as he picked the modified lid off the ground and presenting it to Ronald. "And this can be used for surfing. Ehehehehehe!"

"Sweet!" Ronald exclaimed excitedly, taking the coffin lid from Undertaker. "Coffin surfing, Death yeah!" He struck the "death pose" and dashed off to the ocean. Everyone who gave a shit looked on as the bikini clad party reaper expertly guided the coffin lid through the waves reaping a few rogue land sharks while he was at it. "Coffin surfing rules! Fuck yeah! Woohoo!"

In the meantime, Grell and Undertaker were on their romantic boat ride-er, coffin ride-at sea innocently making out after losing interest in Ronald's surfing talents. Just as the two eccentric Shinigami were about to round second base, the sky suddenly darkened. "William must have stripped down to his trunks," Grell grumbled. "This happens every year." In the blink of an eye, Undertaker magically transported the two of them to shore and helped his lovely red rose out of the coffin. Ronald was already on shore waiting for them to arrive.

The bemused redhead asked Undertaker how he got them to shore so quickly to which he responded: "Haven't you ever wanted to go on a magic coffin ride? Hehehehe."

Angry, panicked shouts grew in volume from the beach as the sky darkened by the second. The trio looked up and to their horror cows were flying in from the void. Every year this happened. Every. Damn. Year. When will William learn to keep his pants on? A cow on the perimeter spotted the bikini clad Ronald Knox and went in for the kill, but he was quick on his feet and took a running jump to thwack the cow far off into the ocean with Undertaker's coffin lid where said cow was consequently devoured by rabid mermaids.

"...Death Scythes won't stop them, sir!" A terrified shout from a recent graduate resonated over the chaotic din of frustrated and frightened reapers.

The ever stoic Dispatch manager stepped forward, adjusting his glasses out of habit. "Silence!" He bellowed. "I have a plan. It's Tuesday and you know what that means."

Someone in the back yelled out "tacos," to which William T. Spears promptly responded with a whack to the smart ass' head with his pruners. It makes one wonder if William is the recipient of the whacks at home with the rule book. He's hush-hush about his private life. The realm may never know.

"No, you imbecile. Bees!" The manager barked. A smug, though tiny grin cracked his stone visage as he bent over and dropped his swim trunks. He was violently knocked to the ground on all fours as a horde of killer bees flew out of his ass and headed straight for the cows flying in from the void. "Honestly," William muttered under his breath.

"Talk about having a bug up your butt," Ronald mused with a hearty laugh at his anal boss' expense.

Undertaker was doubled over laughing at Ronald's lame pun. Grell was more interested than ever in getting Undertaker naked. All this chaos was getting her fired up. Everyone else but the trio was caught amid the chaos. Killer bees versus killer cows? Which would win? Additionally, just how many bees could one ass handle? They were still flying out of William's ass at an alarming rate. Was it reciprocal to the amount of cows flying in from the void? The realm may never know.

"Hey, 'Taker, let's watch the show," Ronald said with a flirty wink. He smacked the crazy man's bare butt for good measure, earning one of Grell's infamous "death glares" and a giggle from the sexy man in the pink thong.

"Now, now, my dears, there's enough of me for both of you." The mortician laughed as he goosed both bikini wearing reapers. "I'm legendary in more ways than one, you know," his voice turned into seductive, velvety darkness. Grell and Ronald blushed and hung all over the sexy legend like hookers on a pimp. Undertaker smirked and thought to himself: It must be the thongs.

The trio was hooked on spectating the chaotic beach battle. Bees stopped flying out of William's pained ass. Eric Slingby offered him a taco (it is Tuesday) and a beer for his sacrifice which earned him a punch in the face. Honestly, a taco? After countless killer bees just flew out of his ass? What the hell was that idiot Scotsman thinking? 

Cow carcasses were raining down from the sky and littering the beach sending reapers scurrying in all directions. Rabid mermaids and other psychotic sea folk feasted upon the cows that landed in the ocean. Alan Humphries and several reapers from the secretarial pool collected dead bees so they could make maracas. Undertaker disappeared briefly with a cow carcass, presumably back to his shop, to have his very own prime specimen to dissect later on. Leftovers were divided between the reapers and the Cracken. Use of the ocean isn't free. If only accounting could get their shit together with the land sharks. At least the Cracken is kind enough to barter with food, unlike greedy land sharks and their currency driven way of life.

Just as the reapers thought everything was back to normal, loud buzzing came from all around. Without the cows to attack, the remaining bees needed a new target. Unfortunately for them, Will's ass was an exit only, which left them homeless. The angry bees turned on the reapers, chasing them around the beach as they screamed in fear. They knew they couldn't reap a bee, their scythes were just too damn big! Too. Damn. Big.

"Unny, what do we do?" Grell whined.

Undertaker summoned his Death Scythe with a sinister grin.

"Oh, Unny, you look so delicious in your little pink thong and that big scythe of yours. Why, I could eat you up," Grell cooed.

"Damn! You're hot, 'Taker!" Ronald exclaimed in aroused excitement. "What are you planning?"

"You'll see. Eheeheeheeheeeheee!" Undertaker dashed off to a jetty off shore at lightning speed, his treasured top hat flying off in his wake. 

"So, I guess the hat wasn't part of his head after all," the lawnmower wielding reaper mused as he gazed longingly at the scantily clad legend effortlessly leaping over obstacles, silver hair flowing behind him elegantly, until he reached his destination. At least the mutation theory has been put to rest. Now, he had a chance to see the rumored stunning eyes Undertaker is said to possess.

Both Ronald and Grell watch as Undertaker's lithe form raised his Death Scythe over his head. A gust of wind blew the retired reaper's silver bangs away from his face exposing his beautiful eyes. "I totally want to go skinny-reaping with 'Taker."

"Me too, Ronnie. Me too. Aren't his eyes just gorgeous?" Grell practically swooned.

With a loud, eerie laugh the mortician brought down his Death Scythe, splitting the piece of rock before him in half. Rumbling came forth from beneath the ocean's surface signalling Undertaker's cue to leave. He quickly made it back to shore before the entire jetty sank to the ocean floor only to be replaced by an army of Bizarre Dolls.

"What the hell? I thought we got rid of those things!" Ronald yelled.

Undertaker leaned against his scythe with a crooked grin on his face. "These are leftovers, my dear. They won't hurt you. They aren't interested in finding souls. See for yourself. Hehehe."

The trio looked on in fascination as Undertaker giggled maniacally the whole time. Grell was totally speechless. 

"Holy shit!" Ronald shouted as he saw the Bizarre Dolls shoot laser beams from their gaping mouths. "It's a fucking cyborg zombie!" 

"They're only going after the bees," Grell added.

"No reapers were harmed in the massacre of killer bees," Undertaker replied in his best fake newscaster voice, which had the three of them sharing a good belly laugh. "They are very precise and harmless to people unless otherwise directed."

Eventually all the bees were eradicated thanks to Undertaker's cyborg Bizarre Dolls who were now resting peacefully at the bottom of the ocean awaiting their next command. William was butt hurt. Literally. Millions of killer bees flying out of one's butt tends to have that effect. Undertaker gave him some salve and a lolli for being "such a good boy." Everything was back to normal and the party was well under way. Half of Dispatch was wasted just in time for the group photo. Just as the timer clicked on the camera, Undertaker removed his pink thong and haphazardly pulled it over William's head. It's a good thing Grell was standing in front of the legend because this picture was going up on the wall back at the office for all to see.

**Author's Note:**

> This is from my Wattpad account, also under the same user name.


End file.
